


evading you

by arleaux



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Akaashi isn't perfect but he's perfect, Bokuto Koutarou Being Bokuto Koutarou, First Impressions, IRS Auditor Akaashi, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, Self-Indulgent, Soulmates, Tax evasion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:22:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29300355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arleaux/pseuds/arleaux
Summary: Finding your soulmate was simple. All you had to do was look up the name printed on your hand and that's it - you found them.Not for Bokuto. At least, until his soulmate showed up knocking on his friend's door with a 3949-A report in his hand. Not simple at all.(A short little fic in which the ever so fantastic Akaashi Keiji is an IRS auditor and Bokuto is quite the crook.)
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 10
Kudos: 78





	evading you

"Dude, you're gonna get arrested."

"Am not. I've done this a hundred times, it's fine."

"You moved the zero _twice."_

 _"_ And I'll do it again." Bokuto moved the zero to the right just one more time and electronically signed his name with his famous chicken scratch signature. He folded the form and scanned it on his phone. "Turn on the light, will you Kuroo? I have to get the lighting perfect."

"Yep. You're going to jail."

Bokuto had been using Kuroo's kitchen light for three months, or when he first moved in to room with him. Kuroo could have complained about Bokuto's money philosophy if he wanted to, but with all those zeros Bokuto saved, Kuroo didn't have to pay much rent. Besides, what were friends for if they didn't help their brethren dupe the system? 

He sipped his coffee and unpaused his midnight game show.

While Kuroo enjoyed the rest of his night before lamenting about having to go work the next day, Bokuto thought about all the success he'd been brought lately. At 23 years old, he's already accumulated six figures. 

It was impressive for a volleyball player, Kuroo pointed out when Bokuto first shared his "salary". But that was the problem; it wasn't really his salary that brought him so much flow. He was a well liked guy.

When fans bought him cute stuff like bears or jars of hard candy, he returned that shit. Made a hell of a lot of money off of it, around six hundred thousand yen a month. But that wasn't all, people loved to buy his merchandise. 

Was it because he was great with kids? Probably. Tired parents usually apologized to him five hundred times after his games end when the little ones shuffled by a million chairs to see him, but he didn't mind at all. He loved children! Especially when they brought him that coin. "Bokuto" jerseys flooded every stadium he walked into, like an ocean of black and white. It was his own orchestra, a newspaper with only his name on it.

Sitting on the couch with Kuroo, his lungs were filled to the brim with satisfaction. This was it. He made it.

"Yo."

"Yeah, Kuroo."

"You find them yet?" Kuroo asked like it was the hundredth time, like an apologetic parent at another match. Bokuto frowned and looked away from the game show. 

"I've been trying every day, man. Nothing." 

That's right, there were no results on the internet for Akaashi Keiji. He checked Facebook and google every day and all that popped up was baby boy names and the occasional owl. It saddened him to think that his soulmate may not be interested in meeting him, after all, the internet was what made meeting your soulmate more possible these days.

The internet. What a gift. Before social networking became a thing, meeting your soulmate was a thing of chance. Now, bursting into tears when meeting for the first time was only the action of a true romantic. Bokuto always wondered if his soulmate was a true romantic, but he figured not. After all, they didn't even bother making themselves known.

He wouldn't force them, though. He couldn't. 

Maybe they needed to lead a different life. Bokuto had no idea who Akaashi Keiji was. For all he knew, Akaashi Keiji was a secret agent on the hunt for the mafia's greatest hitman. Probably not, but it was just as probable as any other conclusion. While he lamented on the couch thinking about his starcrossed lover, he felt his phone vibrate beside him. Without thinking, he grasped it, took a look at the number, and groaned.

"IRS?"

"IRS," Bokuto confirmed begrudgingly. He swiped _answer_ , sort of curious about what they had to say.

"Bokuto-san, good evening, this is your IRS auditor calling about a suspicious report we've just received from you. My name is Aka-" nope. Not today. He hung up and blocked the number. While Bokuto slumped down and cleared his mind, Kuroo stood up, arms crossed. 

"Bo, did you really just hang up on the guy? What if you're in actual trouble this time?" Kuroo glared at Bokuto, scared for his friend. If Bokuto was going down, he was probably going down with him.

"Relax, relax," Bokuto assured. "If someone else calls me I'll just say I thought it was suspicious too or something. We are good. Remember, I'm like basically a pro at this now."

Bokuto told Kuroo goodnight and washed up, then went to sleep. The thought of Akaashi Keiji's one hundred faces flooded his mind before he dreamed of nothing.

Hours passed, and then Kuroo shook him up.

"Kuroo...I'm tryna sleep bro, practice isn't till Tuesday.."

"Dude. Bro. You're gonna get arrested."

"What?" Bokuto forced an eye open.

"I think they know, Bokuto." 

"What?"

"Remember? You moved the zero _twice."_

_"Thrice."_

_"_ Damn it, Bo! Now's not the time to fucking correct me. Get your ass up. _Now_." Kuroo walked out of the room and ran a hand through his messy dark hair and watched Bokuto roll helplessly off his bed, hitting the floor with a flat thud. Like a ninja, he hopped to his feet and walked to the door. He wore the most ridiculous pair of sweatpants he owned as pajamas; the one of the few gifts he didn't sell. They were awful, had an absolutely horrendous owl design on the back pockets. Just the existence of back pockets alone made them unretailable.

He trudged to the door and forced it open. "Hell... _llo._ " 

There was no way the man at the door was an IRS auditor. He was a whole angel and a half; eyes gleaming, skin glowing like glutinous rice. Bokuto marveled at the visitor's face of a face. It felt like he was taking school entrance exams again, only this time he had five minutes to study for the test.

Everything about the guy was perfect, like the answer to all of Bokuto's prayers. An angel indeed.

An IRS angel. 

"Bokuto-san," he said. Bokuto nodded, head empty. 

"Thank you for answering, this time. Take this," he spat. The guy handed Bokuto and envelope and he took it. 

"Aw, for me? You shouldn't have." He giggled and the auditor nodded.

"Yes, we're suing you for tax evasion. Please send this back to us by the end of the week or we will send the authorities." Bokuto choked on his giggle and his teenage dream ended. Quickly, he tore open the envelope and power-read the first page.

Apparently, the IRS caught foot that he was under-reporting his income. This was bad, this was really bad. At the bottom of the paper, a twelve-thousand dollar fine highlighted in red. How much even was that in yen? 

He read it again, the auditor watching him. Suddenly, Bokuto's eyes hovered over a certain configuration of characters: Akaashi Keiji. 

_No, no, Akaashi Keiji was reporting me for tax fraud? He couldn't do that unless he was the— oh._

He looked back up at his angel, now devil in disguise. This was the Akaashi Keiji he'd been searching high and low for. A dream in the middle of his nightmarees.

"Hi, Bokuto-san."

"Akaashi...why?" Bokuto asked. Akaashi didn't catch on, so he raised a brow, not giving in to how sad Bokuto both looked and sounded. "Why have you hid from me for so long? I've looked everywhere for you." He held the letter a bit tighter than before.

Akaashi stared at him blankly. "Bokuto-san, you're kind of a crook." 

A crook. They were the loves of each other's lives, and the first thing Akaashi called him was a crook. That wasn't very soulmatey of him. 

"Listen, Bokuto-san, I've known you for a while even if you don't know me. I've _been_ to your games, _seen_ you interact with other people, and to be honest, I thought you were perfect."

"..Thought?"

"Thought. We're soulmates, but we're also separate entities. I hope today reminds of that because guess what? The craziest thing happened three months ago. Your name showed up on my work radar and now I know you're dishonest, disgraceful. Where have you been getting all that extra money from?"

"..Fans," Bokuto replied quietly. 

"Fans? You already get paid! Why are you taking money from fans? Nice apartment, by the way." Akaashi showed a reserved scowl.

"No! I mean, they send me gifts and all, so I return them and whatnot. Except for these," he showed of the owl print on his right buttcheek. "Ugly, right? They kinda grew on me though."

"I crocheted those for you."

"Oh."

Akaashi changed the topic. "Whatever, Bokuto-san, you're rich. Happy? Grow up, be accountable." 

Bokuto's heart tightened watching Akaashi pull up his messenger bag as he turned away. "Akaashi, please.."

"Good bye, Bokuto-san. Have a nice day," he started for the end of the hell, but turned around. "And Bokuto-san.."

"Yeah..?"

"Do your taxes." 

He left, for good that time. Bokuto slowly closed his door and pressed his forehead against the wood. At that point, he would have rather been arrested for the crime in his files than the felony in his soul. Kuroo emerged from the other room with a spatula he had been using a shield for the last seven minutes.

"So, like, what the fuck happened?"

"What do you think happened, bro? I got served."

"No, I mean what happened, Bo. You're sobbing." He sympathetically gestured to the hot tears running down Bokuto's chin. The tears came in harder after he realized that he was, in fact, crying. "Oh, it's hilarious actually," he said, in between sniffles. "That dude out there was Akaashi."

Kuroo dropped the spatula. "Dude, go after him, you big baby!"

"How? He literally thinks I'm a crook."

"You are," Kuroo deadpanned. "But you're a crook _and_ an angel." No, that title was reserved for Akaashi only. Bokuto thought he was more like the owl on his right buttcheek. 

"Thanks, Kuroo. But I probably need to get my shit figured out first."

"That you do," Kuroo pointed out. "But pay your part of the rent before you start on that."

"You're evil."

"I'm resourceful. How much is he suing you, anyways?"

"Twelve-thousand USD," Bokuto responded and Kuroo whistled almost automatically. "Thank god you're rich, now. Maybe you can still try and reverse it by correcting the amount."

"No, no. I think I'll do something else." Bokuto looked out the window, brainstorming whatever he had running through his mind.

"Sue them back?" Kuroo asked, excited for a challenge but also terrified at what Bokuto could have up his sleeve. However, Bokuto shook his head.

"No, bro. I'm gonna pay it. Akaashi said be accountable and stuff, so that's what I'll do." That excited Kuroo even more than the possible win-lose profits. His friend was growing up right before his eyes. If he had finished his coffee a bit earlier and was fully functioning, would he have teared up? Probably.

Bokuto shuffled back to his room. "Yo, can you make more coffee while I get ready, I'll be back out in a bit."

"Yes, and please toss those pajamas. I think he would've sued you for more if you actually stepped outside with them."

"Oh, shut up!" It was one of the greatest articles of his wardrobe. He just had to layer it correctly like one of those Russian siblings he saw modeling at the mall. Lots of scarves and plaid shirts. He washed his face and took his shower a bit cooler so that his teary eyes looked less puffy. 

Standing under the trickling water, he pondered what to say of Akaashi, what to think of Akaashi.

At the end of the day, Akaashi was valid. He was a good guy, at least better than what Bokuto thought of himself at that moment. At first, Bokuto considered Akaashi to be selfish, but it occurred to him that Akaashi, though a stranger, did care in most languages. He loved him, that was how the whole soulmates thing worked. Why would Akaashi hurt himself, and in turn Bokuto on purpose? 

The possibilities still stood. Akaashi Keiji could still be a secret agent on the hunt for the mafia's greatest hitman. Akaashi Keiji could still be some normal guy who was an art history whiz and liked dogs. Or cats. There were so many things that Bokuto still needed to know about the great Akaashi Keiji whose name was inked in fine letters along his wrist.

But from what he felt, _knew,_ Akaashi was valid. As Bokuto's soulmate and watcher, maybe he knew Bokuto better than the other thought. If this confrontation was the best for both of them, then be what it may.

He shampooed his hair and let the water do the rest of the work. When Bokuto hopped out of the shower, he wiped his hand on the steamy glass and took a good look at himself. Did he have the face of a crook? Not really. Maybe the mindset of one, but he could change. 

He didn't see the point of taxes. Not yet, anyways. But for Akaashi, he'll even wear a monocle to see it. Bokuto pulled on a shirt, a new pair of sweatpants, and some slides. When he returned to the living room, Kuroo sat there with a fresh pot of coffee and his laptop opened. 

"That your soulmate or work?" Bokuto asked, pouring himself some coffee. 

"Dude, I don't even know anymore." 

"Y'know, for a businessman I'm surprised you let me get away with tax evasion."

"Not all businessmen are rich, dearest. I too benefit from you since we are excellent roommates. I should've stopped you before I kind of got caught up in watching our savings increase." Bokuto nodded and sipped his coffee.

"Actually," Kuroo corrected, "nevermind. You got to meet Akaashi today." Bokuto listened silently.

"Yeah, I probably could've met him sooner if I didn't remove the zeros every time I filed." He lightly stroked his thumb along the handle of his cup thinking of more things to Akaashi. 

"Probably, but just make it up to him, Bo."

"Yep, but I need to stop by the ATM before I do."

After coffee and ten minutes to gather himself, Bokuto headed out the door. Kuroo still had the spatula by his side, thinking the IRS might pop by at any minute while Bokuto was gone. Tokyo's hot summer sun beat down on Bokuto as he walked to the ATM.

"Twelve thousand USD... twelve thousand _buckaroos._ " He popped in the amount and his account and waited for the ungodly amount of yen to spill out of the machine. Could he get arrested for printing out that much at once? Not if he walked fast enough.

The ATM wasn't the only place he went. The street was lined with shops he liked, so he stopped by a couple and bought a few things that apparently supported the environment and helped other communities besides his bank. The fundraising campaign, charity:water, really caught his eye! Especially how happy the kids on the cover looked when the project worked. He hoped they were doing well. When he finished paying, bags still in hand, he searched up the location to the closest IRS office. There were too many, around thirteen. The stakes were too high, choosing one to visit in hopes of finding him there, so Bokuto checked his past calls.

Then, he quickly remembered he had blocked Akaashi. Guilt swelled within his lungs as he stood on the busy sidewalk, but he brushed it aside as an effort of being his best self. He pressed the unblock button and prayed his voicemails were saved.

They were, and Bokuto led out a dramatic sigh. On the log, fourteen missed calls and voicemails appeared. Hesitant, but eager to hear Akaashi's voice, Bokuto pressed the play button on the first one.

_"Hello.. Bokuto-san? This is really you, huh? I didn't really want to first contact like you like this, but that's how life works sometimes. I'm Akaashi Keiji, and first off, I apologize deeply for not contacting you sooner. I've always been like that and it's hard for me to get to know people, but I hope you know I really admire you, even from a distance. It's already off to a bad start, but maybe this is my mistake._

_Ah, I'm rambling. Sorry again. I'm calling for the IRS and I suppose I look over your files now. There's a weird report, but it was probably just a bug in the system. Give me a call back, and maybe we can meet up so that I could introduce myself for real next time? Thank you, Bokuto-san. Have a nice day."_

Bokuto exhaled the breathe he didn't know he held for a minute and stared at the play button. He played the next one.

_"Hey, Bokuto-san. You didn't pick up again. Maybe you didn't receive the last voicemail. Are you upset with me? If you are, I understand. But anyways, there is another report that looks suspicious. I won't flag it yet, but please contact me back to work it out. We don't have to talk about the voicemail. Thank you, and have a nice day."_

That one hurt a bit more than the last one. Bokuto pressed the one above it. It was another message about yet another odd report, and Akaashi seemed a bit indifferent to it. The same with the next one, and the next one. When Bokuto got the sixth voicemail, that time Akaashi actually said something else.

_". . .I'm sorry."_

In the final voicemail, the seventh one, he said nothing. Bokuto only heard static and a click. It surprised him how the shortest one tugged at his heartstrings the most. Akaashi cared, but Bokuto hoped he still had a chance after that last message, or lack of. He was going to change, he swore it to himself and Akaashi. 

Bokuto didn't even check for the address. He was too caught up in the idea of Akaashi at the time that he missed it. He played a few of the voicemails again and got an address in a few of them. It was a good seven blocks away, but Bokuto would make the distance. He was an athlete, after all, an athlete who forgot his train pass and didn't want to look suspicious with over a million yen in his bag. 

He checked the time: 3:30. According to Google, the place closed at four in the afternoon, but Akaashi usually called him later than that. Still, he had no time to waste. Bokuto sprinted straight ahead, making sharp turns and terrifying passerbys. He slowed down only to adjust the bags around his arm. He made seven blocks in twenty minutes, a new record in his book. 

The building wasn't that big, maybe large enough for seven rows of desks. Being the optimist that Bokuto was, he walked in there ready to see his soulmate. He still had ten minutes before the place closed for visitors. There was hope. Bokuto went to the front desk and talked to the woman filling in some papers. 

"Hello, is Akaashi Keiji here right now?" He asked earnestly. The woman looked up from her work and adjusted her glasses. "Yes, he is. Is there a message I can relay to him for you?"

"No thanks, I'd actually like to see him. If that's okay, or if he's okay with that." She looked at Bokuto with a bit of skepticism, but then looked down at his wrist. _"_ _You're.."_

 _"_ The idiot. Yeah, I know."

"No," she corrected. "Well, in my opinion you both are. But even so, go get him." She almost sounded like Kuroo then. Bokuto shot her his warmest smile, bowed, and proceeded to find Akaashi. The secretary wanted to tell him what number Akaashi's cubicle was, but he'd already went on his way to check each one he came across. 

_Hmm, 1A_? No, definitely not him. Bokuto checked the other side and still no Akaashi, just some other guy sitting in his chair and arguing with old people. He checked 2B, then 3C. Still no Akaashi. He walked over for 4A. Uhuh. 5A? Nope. His heart started thumping, anxiety built up just a bit at the thought of not being able to find the other.

Bokuto checked 5B and there it was.

Akaashi's cubicle was messy, but a cleanly type of messy. His books were organized, as was his files. But his interests were splattered across the walls like a scrapbook. Places he wanted to visit were pinned the the side in little cutouts, and pictures of him at the beach with his mom and his family dog. Bokuto was relieved to have found another dog lover. On the other side, there was a calendar with work birthdays circled in certain boxes and other notes. Messy, but nonetheless organized. 

On the desk, there was a mug. Bokuto liked the mug for its design, thought it was neat. He took a closer look at the mug and it occurred to him that the number twelve printed on it was for his jersey. A small smile tugged at his lip. 

"Bokuto-san, what are you doing here right now?" The voice behind him belonged to Akaashi. Bokuto swung around to meet Akaashi face to face. Maybe he should've turned slower because his soulmate was a stunner and shifting his focus too quickly burnt his retinas at the site of the love of his life.  
  
"I uh, came to see you, Akaashi."

"Could this wait? We close in five minutes."

"No, Akaashi!" Some guy peered outside his cubicle to check out the commotion. "Sorry, too loud," Bokuto hushed, then turned to look back at Akaashi. His face looked determined, but his head span all over the place.

"You've been waiting too long for me already, and I'm sorry for that. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry for not answering your calls, or even considering why you wouldn't have sought me out. But all this time, I thought about you. Every day. At practice, on the train, sending in my tax forms. But your soulmate's kind of an idiot, Akaashi. I'm sorry for that, too." 

"Bokuto-san—"

"I'm going to do better, Akaashi. The money's in my hand and I got a whole bunch of stuff like donation cards to give to organizations who could use my money better than I have. Thank you for helping me see things clearly. I hope you have a—" Akaashi pressed a finger against Bokuto's lips and smiled softly. It sent jitters down Bokuto's spine. He really needed to get used to Akaashi being within three feet of him or things will never work out.

"You said enough, it's okay. Thank you for doing better, Bokuto-san, it means a lot. But in return, I'll try and do better too."

"Do better? Akaashi, you're amazing."  
  
"Amazing?" Akaashi asked, perplexed. He rolled his eyes and grabbed his phone. "Am not. Reading is the highlight of my day, I look at tax files for a living, I never shut up about food, I snore like a goat and, sir, I _crochet._ Run away while you can," he joked, but then it got serious. He returned to a more somber tone and looked at Bokuto. "It took me months to even talk to you, Bokuto-san. It was really hard for me to even pass by your stadium, but I'm glad I did, because you're really talented. You have no idea how happy it made me to see how well you were doing." He glanced at the mug on his desk and he blushed a bit. Disregard that last part of the message. 

Bokuto's eyes crinkled a bit as he smiled at Akaashi. Snoring wasn't a bad thing, he did that too. And even if it was, it wouldn't stop him from gravitating from Akaashi, no matter how imperfectly perfect he was. 

"Akaashi.."

"Yes, Bokuto-san?" The hair on Akaashi's neck raised, ready for what Bokuto was going to say next.

"Please take my money."

Akaashi looked down at the fat envelope ready to slip out of Bokuto's bag. "Take that to the front, the secretary will take care of that." Bokuto nodded and stopped by the front desk. Over there, the secretary closed her book slyly and rolled to the right while sitting in her wheelie-chair. "That's the cash?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Damn, you must've fucked up," the secretary remarked professionally. Her eyes widened at the tall stack of yen Bokuto slid onto the desk.

"I wouldn't say so, I mean, I got to meet my soulmate for the first time!"

"That's cool and all, but still."

"..Yeah."

While counting the bills, she stopped for a moment. "Good luck with Akaashi. He's one of a kind." 

"Thank you. I'll give him my a hundred and twenty percent, like he did for me." Akaashi may not have thought he gave his all and more, but he did, in his own Akaashi way. Bokuto loved that.

"Are you going to keep watching me count your money or will you head back over to Athena's child, guardian angel pretty man over there?" She muttered questioningly. Bokuto snapped out of his thoughts, bowed, then headed off. The technical closing time of the building passed two minutes ago, but he wasn't kicked out yet. The office was too chill for that. 

Bokuto returned to the cubicle and prepared to part ways. He wouldn't need to, though. Akaashi packed up his messenger bag and slid his laptop into one of the larger compartments. "Oh, you're heading out already?" Bokuto inquired.

"I only stay after work when _certain clients_ give me a hard time," Akaashi explained, half-joking, half-not. He slid his bag over his shoulder and signed out. "Now, with all the money you may or may not have now, are you going to treat me out to dinner, Bokuto-san?"

"Maybe."

"Maybe?" Akaashi queried. While adjusting the straps of his bag, Bokuto's name shined prominently on his wrist. 

"Not until I do my taxes."

"Ah, so you're learning."

"That I am, Akaashi." That he was.

He didn't completely know his other half, but he was excited to know what he was like, and what else he could crotchet. Or what he liked to read, why he decided to knit owls on the back of sweatpants, why he chose to look at tax files for a living. Why Akaashi was Akaashi. 

That day, he liked learning. Learning about himself, taxes, and his perfect soulmate.

Actually, he still didn't know shit about taxes. But yeah, he was learning.

Thank you, Akaashi, for being imperfectly perfect. 

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the other week when the IRS almost fined me two-thousand dollars for purchasing my car under the table. And yes, Bokuto is my highest kin. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this little fic. My twitter is @solarmye. Thanks for reading!


End file.
